


Too Drunk To Not Make Mistakes

by CatsuNatsu



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, This fandom will be the death of me, and food, and klance art, and pidge, can you hear me breaking apart, did i mention that shiro is keiths adopted big brother bc he is, haha im getting emotional in the tags, honestly idk what im doing, i forgot this is the tags and not a public comment section, ily all, im sorry i love big brother shiro, im such a shirhoe, is that normal, keith doesnt know hes bi, lance is just rlly gay when hes drunk, lance is such a weirdo drunk im-, lets wait to see how i am when i finish the god damned fic, lord have mercy upon my sinful soul, mentions of homophobia but only if i continue it maybe idk i havent written it yet, my cat just licked my armpit wha t, okay ill stop, or Gay, pls, pls love lance ik you think keith is hot but laNCE, pls send help, the you showed up drunk in my back yard! au that no one asked for, theyre rlly gay, thx, w/e, well slap me silly and call me obama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 21:36:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7378273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatsuNatsu/pseuds/CatsuNatsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Whooooooooo's a good booyy?" The stranger slurred, each word hanging dangerously off his tongue, as if at any moment his words would turn into inaudible gibberish. A wide grin blew wide across his tan face, blue eyes staring at his fumbling hand as it traced circles on the arm of the black piece of outside furniture. All that was left for Keith to do was to stare in utter confusion, his mouth hanging open in disbelief, trying to form words to even describe the situation. </p>
<p>"It's two am. I don't know you. And you're drunk. In my back yard. Petting a garden chair?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>((swearing ofc))</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Drunk To Not Make Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> dt tobio on vine bc their edits are !!!!! and their shipping choices are !!!!!!!!!!!!
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> (( pls listen to Jay Hayden & KingVodka - Stranger whilst you read this it fits so perfectly //cries if you get the quote for the title ill love you ))
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> (( p.s if you enjoyed this i may further it to another chapter or two but only if people actually want that haAH im sorry they may be a little ooc ive never written them before. ))

Keith's fingers drummed restlessly against the surface of his laptop, staring in concentration at the bright screen in the dim light of his bedroom. A sigh escaped from his lips as he clicked the refresh button to his browser for the fifty-seventh time that evening. "C'mon....C'mon..." he chanted, almost a whisper, gentle encouragement for his bank account to change its figures. But staying true to the dozens of times he had checked, the figures were still in the two digits. 

"GOD DAMNIT." His eyebrows furrowed, coming so close together that from a distance, one could have mistaken his pouting rage for a mono-brow. Or a caterpillar. Same difference. Huffing in defeat he slumped back further against the headboard of his bed, feeling the cushions beneath him engulf his head further. It was on nights like these that Keith couldn't sleep. Couldn't even close his eyes. It wasn't depression or anxiety that kept him up but ironically, more of an existential crisis. He was nineteen years old, living with his adopted older brother and working in the cafe that said big brother owned to save up for college money. But of course, as any nineteen year old would, he got drunk. A lot. And just when he thought he was able to pay for the college course he had devoted countless of hours earning money for, he went out. And spent everything. On a purse. He didn't even like purses! But he took one look at the finely polished leather and dazzling pink bow and drunk Keith couldn't resist. So that's where he was now. Two nights later. Continuously refreshing his browser hoping his night down in the Red Lion was just a dream, and to his dismay, the figures proved not. 

He swallowed down a lump in his throat that had somehow managed to form within the time he was recollecting the previous events, his jaw clenched tight as he exhaled through his nose. Rolling his eyes in defeat, he set his laptop aside, finally deciding that maybe staying up until two am wasn't the best idea. It was then and only then that a pair of hands reached over the fence bordering Keith's back yard. It was only then that Shiro just happened to be fast asleep. And coincidentally, it was only then that the stranger managed to knock over a garden gnome on his descent from the top of the fence to the ground. Freezing at the noise, Keith almost comically turned around to peer out of his window, pulling back the crimson red curtains, his deep blue eyes rested upon a dark figure slouched near the porch. His heart pounded in his chest, hands fumbling for the torch he kept on his bed side table, don't judge him, men can be afraid of the dark too- he tiptoed out of his bedroom, shutting the door lightly and proceeded in silence down the stairs. Almost hesitant, he reached out for the door handle from the kitchen leading to the garden, his sweaty palms met cold metal. He inhaled deeply before he pushed the door open, his other hand whipping round to focus the torch light on the seemingly unfazed intruder who barely even flinched. "HEY YOU-" he abruptly stopped mid-sentence as he stared wide eyed at the scene lay out before him. 

"Whooooooooo's a good booyy?" The stranger slurred, each word hanging dangerously off his tongue, as if at any moment his words would turn into inaudible gibberish. A wide grin blew wide across his tan face, baby blue eyes staring at his hand as it traced circles on the arm of the black piece of outside furniture. All that was left for Keith to do was to stare in utter confusion, his mouth hanging open in disbelief, trying to form words to even describe the situation. 

"It's two am. I don't know you. And you're drunk. In my back yard. Petting a garden chair?"

As the stranger turned his head to face Keith it was then that he was able to get a good look at him. A wide grin Keith could only describe as "fuck boy" was displayed across the quite obviously intoxicated boy's face. His cheeks a flushed pink colour, the only kind he'd read about in books. He wore a light grey shirt with navy blue sleeves that seemed to compliment his light blue eyes. Short, deer brown hair stuck to his forehead with either sweat or some kind of liquid he'd managed to get onto his head, either option as to how it had got so wet had some kind of story Keith wasn't in a hurry to listen to. To add to his "fuck boy"esque appearance he wore black skinny jeans that gripped to his legs and red converse, contrasting to his whole blue theme.  
" 'Sup." The stranger proceeded, now staring straight at Keith who was still in disbelief. 

"Sup? Sup?! Is that really ALL you can say to the guy who just caught you trying to flirt with a GARDEN CHAIR of ALL THINGS?"

"I think you'll find, Mullet Head, that this "Garden Chair" is actually a find lady- Oh. This doesn't change anything! There was still a really hot chick here and we were totally gonna kick it off till you showed up. "

"Right."

"I'm serious! You're obviously dumb enough to not know the difference between "prince charming" and "douche bag."

"I vote for the last one-"

"HEY!"

"Which bar did you come from anyway?"

"Texas. What are you, a stalker?"

"I asked bar not where you were born, Drunk Boy."

"Oh. Why didn't you say that?" Keith couldn't help but lightly massage his temples with his free hand, using all of his will power alone not to knock the shit out of the stranger in front of him, "I went to the Red Lion with some friends, and I'm not 'drunk'"

"I'm probably the only sober person up at two am in our area and you just confessed you were going to make out with a garden chair-"

"SHE'S NOT JUST A PIECE OF FURNITURE SHE HAS FEELINGS AND PRONOUNS RESPECT THEM."

"It's a garden chair."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is not."

"Is too- wait a second. You fuck tard, you tricked me!"

"See, you're drunk."

"I'm so.. Sooober."

"You just proved my point."

"I haven't proved anything Mullet head!"

Keith sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Was he like this when he was drunk? He should've known the stranger was too intoxicated to carry on a properly functioning conversation let along argument. What should he do? He could go ask Shiro but that'd mean waking him up and leaving the stranger alone. Maybe he could call up the bar and see if anybody there recognises the name- wait. What even is his name? Drunk douche bag? The guy with a garden chair kink? Mr. My-Hair-Looks-Like-A-Skinned-Hedgehog? Fuck boy- Keith's train of thought was cut off by the silent sound of snoring emanating from the stranger who was now hunched over the side of the chair, his limbs splayed out limp like spaghetti or some sort of wet noodle. For about the fiftieth time that evening, Keith rolled his eyes, walking forward before picking the stranger up by his waist and hoisted him into a fire man's lift. Despite Keith being smaller than the sleeping douche bag he was easy to carry. He silently closed the outside door, upon remembering it was 2:30 in the morning and he had a sleeping older brother upstairs, he attempted to tiptoe lightly up the stairs, but silent didn't seem to work with the stranger as his snores became progressively louder. To counteract the situation he stopped midway up the stairs and pulled the sleeping boy down to hold him bridal style but pushed the stranger's face into his own chest to somewhat muffle the noise. Then he continued his wobbly ascent up the stairs and thanked God that he hadn't shut his door completely so he could just shoulder it open and then carefully lay the stranger onto the bed. 

He sighed loudly, flopping onto his desk chair, adjacent to his bed where the sleeping boy lay. He didn't know why he was doing this. Or why he'd even cared in the first place. He felt his eyes slowly drift downwards, curiosity taking over. He had to hand it to him, he had pretty nice thighs- but the girls he'd met at the cafe were better. Yeah. Nothin' weird about checking out some sleeping stranger's thighs whilst he doesn't know. Not at all. 

Shaking himself out of his thoughts he slumped back onto his swivel chair, pressing his chin against his chest as he gave out a long sigh. Well. This morning is going to be a very, very long morning.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm too drunk to not take you there~
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> im ass crack deep in klance hell pls help me  
> find me on insta @todomido and vine @tooruble pls dm/vm me at any time to talk about klance i will t h a n k you


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